


Wedding night blues

by Signe_chan



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Asexual Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3214604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo had certain expectations of his wedding night. Not all of them were met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding night blues

Bilbo slumped back against the door until he felt the lock click into place. He could still hear the distant sounds of the party but nobody would bother them tonight. Not on their wedding night, surely. 

To be certain he turned and locked the door. You could never quite predict Dwarves, it was better to be safe. 

He turned back and leant against the door again, watching Thorin tread around their room. Theirs, now. His things had been moved in for him that morning while he prepared for the ceremony. There was a set of drawers there now in the bedroom with his clothes, the comfortable chair he’d claimed as his own when they’d begun building homes here was sat by the fire. His books were in the bookcase, mixed in with Thorin’s like they’d always been there. 

This was his home now, and he was here with his husband. For the first time. There was a strange knot in his stomach and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement, they were so tangled together. 

It wasn’t that he was inexperienced, he’d had his fair share of midnight fumbles with lads and lasses as a young man, slipping out after dark to kiss in the bushes. But the time for that was long behind him and there was a difference in scale between the fumblings of a hobbit finding themselves and the action expected between new spouses on their wedding night. 

He just hoped he was ready. 

Thorin, for now, had retired to the washing room so Bilbo took the chance to ready himself for bed. He found his nightshirt in the dresser then considered for a moment before folding it and putting it back. He wasn’t sure how much EXACTLY Thorin would expect of him tonight but he did know he’d have little use for it. 

Maybe he would have been less nervous if he’d known Thorin a little better. In a carnal sense. He did, of course, know him very well in a variety of other senses. They had spent ample time since the horrible incident where they had come so close to losing each other repairing things between them. Bilbo was sure in his choice. His heart had pinned itself well and truly to Thorin and, as grumpy and contrary as the Dwarf could be, he’d take him over any pretty lass from the shire. 

But, well, it wasn’t that Hobbits weren’t proper. Hobbits stuck very closely to tradition and they put great faith in things like waiting for marriage. But, well, if a courting couple were to sneak a little time alone, well, as long as nothing happened that might lead to a child nobody minded too much. 

The bewildering thing about Dwarven courtship was that nobody had tried to prevent them being alone together. Nobody had thought it odd that Bilbo should spend his evenings in Thorin’s rooms, reading. Or that Thorin might stop by his to smoke a pipe and talk out the day. And they’d never taken advantage of that once. Thorin had never done more than press the most chaste of kisses to his lips. 

Honestly, it had been slightly disappointing. He’d wanted the thrill of sneaking away, the passion which could only be had when you knew your time was limited and you must express everything as quickly as possible. But he couldn’t fault Thorin for doing things properly. He guessed that was just how Dwarves were. 

He knew what was proper now they were married, though. He folded the last of his clothes and slid between the rich sheets of the bed. They were still warm from the bedpan and he snuggled down to wait for his husband to join him. 

When Thorin emerged he was dressed in his nightshirt and for a second Bilbo regretted not grabbing his. He quickly pushed the nerves aside, even as Thorin extinguished the lights and came to climb in beside him. The glow of the fire, even banked as it was, meant he could still see his new husband perfectly well for what they were to be doing. 

“Hello,” Thorin rumbled, reaching for him, and Bilbo went easily into his husband’s arms. “You’re not wearing a nightshirt.” 

“No,” Bilbo said, smiling a little at the puzzled expression on his husband’s face. “I didn’t think I’d have need of it.” 

“You’ll be cold,” Thorin said, rubbing his hand over Bilbo’s arms as though he intended to heat him up. “Dwarves might run warm but I doubt I can heat you all through the night.” 

“Well, I can put it back on after,” Bilbo said with a roll of his eyes, bringing his hands up to cup Thorin’s face. “I needn’t freeze all night.” 

“After what?” Thorin asked suspiciously, his own hands remaining safely on Bilbo’s arms. “I do not know what you have planned, my love, but I must warn you that I am exhausted and intend only to sleep.” 

“Oh,” Bilbo said, deflating a little. He understood, they’d had a very full day, but he’s imagined that Thorin might be as eager as he was to finally make this last acquaintance. That it might have lay on his mind through the day as it had Bilbo’s. 

Maybe it was simply not Dwarven tradition. But, then, they had respected all the Dwarven traditions and only the Dwarven traditions. Surely they could respect his Hobbit ways in this, at least. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask at all. 

“I just thought,” Bilbo said, averting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch Thorin respond. “I mean, well, Hobbit tradition holds that certain things happen between a newly married couple in their wedding bed.” It might be easier to get his meaning across if he was able to bring himself to say the actual words but he couldn’t. Not even lying here naked in Thorin’s arms. 

“I see,” Thorin said, sounding politely distant. “We Dwarves, we have no such tradition. Had I have known…” 

Bilbo’s gut tightened at that. Surely...the implication! Thorin wouldn’t have turned him aside for such a small thing! Or maybe it was that he was pressing his own culture. He did rather tend to go along with the Dwarven way but some things...he was a Hobbit after all. 

“Breath, my one,” Thorin said, his voice soft and intimate again, reaching one arm around to pull Bilbo closer. “Just breath.” 

Bilbo followed the advice, drawing in deep breaths. If the way Thorin was touching him, firm and reassuring, was any indication then he didn’t have to worry about Thorin regretting their marriage yet. Which was as it should be, but he was wound so tightly, so very worried. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, closing his eyes. “I just...I suppose I’m overthinking things too much again. I suppose we should have talked about this before.” 

“Maybe,” Thorin agreed. “I believe we’re finding ourselves at another cultural difference.” 

This would be far from the first time and Bilbo knew the best way to deal with this by now. He gently extracted himself from Thorin’s arms and went to retrieve his night shirt. Whatever happened tonight, he was likely to remain untouched. Thorin moved to light the candle by the bed so they could see each other a little better. 

Bilbo was aware that they both had failings but they did learn from them. After the first few snags they’d discovered that sometimes things they thought were obvious and universal were neither and when they stumbled into one it was best to explain at length. 

He crawled back under the covers and was pleased to find Thorin’s warm embrace waiting for him. He snuggled into it, hiding his face in his husband’s shoulder. The fact that he had to talk about this doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. 

“Well,” he said, closing his eyes and imagining he was trying to explain this to a very small child. “A marriage is, of course, a joining of two people with the hopes of creating a family. For us, of course, family in the form of children will never come but I’d still expect that regular activity and attraction would be a part of my marriage. I certainly feel that attraction.” He blushed at that, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. He felt such a fool explaining it in such obvious terms but, well, past experience. He could take nothing for granted. 

“What would you define as regular sexual contact?” Thorin asked, that detached tone back in his voice. 

“Oh, I don’t know!” Bilbo said, flushing at how boldly Thorin said the word. “Once a week, I suppose? I can’t say I’ve given that much thought to it. I know we’re both busy people but…” 

“For a Dwarf,” Thorin interrupted. “Twice a year is considered quite normal. Maybe three or four times if you possess quite a high sex drive. We do not have relations outside of marriage, of course, and we love only once as you know. We focus mainly on our craft. Our passions are slow to rouse. I am afraid I will never meet your requirement of once a week.” 

“It’s hardly a requirement,” Bilbo huffed. He felt a great weight had been lifted from his chest somehow. Thorin wasn’t rejecting him out of lack of desire, just a difference in desire. “You do want me?” 

“You’re my one,” Thorin said, pulling back a little to look Bilbo in the eyes. Bilbo let him, smiling up into that beloved face. “I want everything with you. Just...in time.” 

“Good,” Bilbo said, relaxing back into his hold. He would not be expected to perform tonight and, yes, there was a hint of disappointment there, but mostly he felt relief. He had hoped to have some kind of sexual relationship, but…

“You...do not seem as troubled by this as I thought you might be,” Thorin said, slowly. 

“No, I don’t think I am,” Bilbo said, smiling. “Or, well, maybe I’ll be upset latter. But, Thorin, I have been dealing with my needs by myself for a very long time. I do not need you to do that for my happiness. I do need you for my happiness. To be here beside you, to wake with you and sleep with you and pass the time between knowing that you love me. The sex, when it comes, will be wonderful but it is not the point of the deal.” 

“I am glad you think that way,” Thorin said, pressing a gentle kiss to Bilbo’s head. “I could help you, sometimes, I suppose. I would not…” 

“When you touch me,” Bilbo said, drawing back so he could look into his husband’s eyes. “When I touch you, I want the only thing between us to be love, not obligation.” 

“I understand,” Thorin said, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Bilbo’s. “Though I can reassure you that my line is fabled for its high sex drive. I may feel inclined as often as four or five times in a year.” 

“I believe I can accommodate that,” Bilbo said with a little laugh. “I would hope, though, that a kiss now and again might not be too much of an imposition.” 

“For you?” Thorin said, “Never.” And then they kissed, the proper kind of kiss Bilbo had been waiting for all along. And it was wonderful.


End file.
